Rainbowfish
by CheshireRyan
Summary: "You're like a rainbow, Santana," she says thoughtfully. "Just like a rainbow."
1. Sunshine

**Disclaimer: I really really don't own _Glee. _Don't blame me for that show's madness.**

**A/N: **This is un-beta'd. I had an idea this morning and I sincerely hope nobody's done this before. I'm going to post the first two chapters now and will finish writing the rest when I get off work tonight. There will be nine chapters total.

This is dedicated to the ever-awesome Mia. She's my brosky.

* * *

**Sunshine**

**Chapter One**

Being in Lima for Brittany's spring break is worth the hassle you went through with the TSA at LaGuardia. _Stupid overpaid mall cops with their blue gloves..._ But the look on Britt-Britt's face when you show up on her doorstep to take her out for the day is _so_ worth it. You pile into your mom's old Mazda and head towards Cleveland, lunch packed in a cooler bag. Her hand covers yours on the gearshift while you drive and you swallow hard past the lump in your throat. You missed this, this togetherness and the way she makes you feel like nothing can hurt too bad or suck too bad when she's around. You wish she was in New York with you instead of back here. She hates it here and you hate it there without her. Phones and _Skype_ just aren't the same thing as cuddling up on the quilt her grandmother made her.

When you finally get to the zoo, you park in the back of the lot, under a tree with the hopes that your mom's car won't be a million degrees by the end of the day. You take her hand and go wait in line, paying the ridiculously high entry fee for both of you and watching with amusement as she studies the map intently.

"Where to first, Britt?" She looks up at you and grins widely, grabbing your arm and tugging you to wherever she wants to go. You wind up at the monkey exhibit, helping her make faces at them, grinning when they start mimicking you. Even if the kids and parents are staring at you, you don't care. You missed being with her, acting ridiculous and childish. When the monkeys get bored, she leads you to the rhinos and then the giraffes and seals and bears. You remembered to bring her camera, so she's happily taking picture after picture, then grabbing you and having you pose with her in front of the exhibits.

You kiss her cheek and she blushes as she takes the picture and you know you're going to have to get a copy of it to hang up in the apartment you share with Berry. When it gets close to noon, you get stamps on your hands and head out to the car for lunch, sitting under the tree. You goof off, flicking Cheetos at each other, drinking lemonade from the thermos happily and feeding each other bits of jelly and Nutella sandwich.

You spend an hour watching lions sleep and play fight, Brittany comparing them to Quinn and taking a picture on your phone to send to her, saying that you've found her long-lost cousins. You get a text back telling you to go find the gay sharks and leave her alone to study her Shakespeare, accompanied by a picture of her looking rumpled in a hoodie with her hair sticking in every which way. She is a lion's cousin. You roll your eyes as Brittany gets a wide grin on her face and begs you to go to the aquarium.

The ride to the aquarium is spent with Brittany singing a made-up song about the Lion Quinn. By the time you arrive, she's taught you the chorus and is working on a fourth verse. It's amusing and you might just write it down later to send to Berry so she can serenade her un-pressed lemon girlfriend with it.

She pays the entry fee this time and you walk hand in hand, searching for gay sharks. You know there aren't any dolphins here, and she knows that, but she's decided she needs to find something equally as "unicorn". God you love this girl.

Brittany pauses in front of a tank and points before grabbing her camera and taking multiple pictures. "Found it." You move to stand next to her and laugh slightly. You're in front of the tropical fish exhibit and there's a fish that shimmers rainbow colors.

"He's the love-child of the gay dolphins," she says with an air of knowledge. You laugh harder and kiss her cheek. She turns to you and kisses you for real, and you don't care that people are probably staring and being disgusted. Her lips are on yours, her tongue peeking through and you grip at her hair, trying to pull her closer. You've missed her so much it hurts sometimes. She's home to you and you can't wait for her to graduate and join you in New York. You've been lonely and sort of jealous when Quinn and Berry get it on in the next room. They're nice enough to try to stay quiet, but you know what's going on and it makes you grouchy for days.

"Come on," you say when you break apart. "We should head home." You head towards the entrance and Brittany leads you into the gift shop first. She gets you a stuffed sea turtle and you get her a stuffed dolphin that can be colored on. It's meant for children and you know it'll wind up rainbow colored by the weekend.

When you're cuddled up on the couch at your house later, watching some movie your mom rented for you, her fingers run through your hair, making you hum. The credits start rolling and her eyes are on your face and you blush bashfully as you look up at her. Her eyes are bright, pale blue in the light flickering from the TV and she's got a serious look on her face.

"You're like a rainbow, Santana," she says thoughtfully. "Just like a rainbow."

You laugh awkwardly, shaking your head and lying back on her chest. "I'm not _that_ gay, Britt-Britt." She doesn't respond for a minute, then tells you to get up or she'll defile you on your mother's couch in plain sight. You scramble to your feet, racing up to your room. She laughs behind you and you're so ready for this even if you didn't want to do it right away. Sex isn't the only reason you returned for her. But it's a nice bonus.


	2. Lionhearted Red

**Disclaimer: I really really don't own _Glee. _Don't blame me for that show's madness.**

**A/N: **This is un-beta'd. I had an idea this morning and I sincerely hope nobody's done this before. I'm going to post the first two chapters now and will finish writing the rest when I get off work tonight. There will be nine chapters total.

This is dedicated to the ever-awesome Mia. She's my bro-sky.

* * *

**Lionhearted Red**

**Chapter Two**

You groan as sunlight hits your eyes, rolling over to bury your face in Brittany's skin. You find nothing but a weird wrinkling noise and the texture reminds you of falling asleep in class, your face in a textbook. Your eyes shoot open and you grab the paper, slightly confused as to where Britt-Britt went. It's a couple of torn pieces of notebook paper, the fringes carefully cut off, and you smile. Brittany remembered one of your biggest pet peeves from high school. You open and start reading the message scrawled in red crayon, biting your lip and smiling.

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_ You are such a rainbow, it's not even funny. But you don't believe me, so I'm going to have to convince you. I'll tell you why you're like each color and then you'll believe me. Because you are a rainbow and I'm a unicorn and we go together like glitter and glue. Just less sticky and more awesome. Duh._

_ So, red. Red's the color of passion and love and strength. And lady bugs and lava and tomatoes. It's the color of fire and sports cars and roses. And the prom dress that I nearly tore trying to get off of you last year._

_ You are red because you're the strongest person I know. You survived high school, made it out alive. Finn outed you and you lived. You didn't try to kill yourself like Karofsky, didn't run away to a different school like Kurt did when he was bullied. You stayed at McKinley, stood your ground and held my hand proudly. You survived your abuela kicking you out, you survived not knowing for sure what you wanted to do when you left Lima. You're brave and courageous. You're totally a Gryffindor._

_ You're passionate. You love singing, enough that you work at a bookstore during the day and sing jazz at a bar at night. You put up with Rachel even though she annoys you so you can do what you want with your life instead of going to Louisville. Which is also red, I think..._

_ And you love me, Santana. You love me with your whole heart and hearts are sort of reddish-purple-brown. Your feelings make up who you are. You feel things so fiercely, so passionately. I love that about you. I love that you love me like the color red. I love that you're mine and I'm yours._

_ Quinn might be the Lion Quinn, but you're my lionhearted Santana._

_ Love,_

_ Brittany_

_(P.S. I'm going to make you breakfast. Come downstairs.)_

* * *

You grin and fold the letter back up gently, tucking it into the drawer of your nightstand before throwing on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Red, just to amuse her. You make your way downstairs and wrap your arms around her waist, kissing the freckled skin that peeks out of her oversized t-shirt.

"Good morning," she says and you can hear the smile in her voice. She finishes breakfast and you set the table. You missed being domestic-ish with her, missed sitting next to her while you eat and just holding hands. When you're done sopping up the yolk with your toast, she pushes something at you. It's a small something wrapped up in red tissue paper and you look up at her, confused. "I declare today to be the first day of the Lopez-Pierce Rainbow Festival. Happy Red Day!"

"But I don't have anything to give to you," you protest. She grins.

"You're here, aren't you? You took me to the zoo and cuddled with me and gave me awesome orgasms. That's an awesome gift." You snort and unwrap the gift carefully. It's a pin in the shape of a shield, the background bright red and a golden lion's head with it's teeth bared and a heart in it's claws. "For you, my lionheart."

You lean over and kiss her, tasting blueberry syrup on her lips, her tongue. "I love you, Brittany. I love you so much." She grins and presses her forehead to your temple.

"Well, there's seven days of the Lopez-Pierce Rainbow Festival, which just happens to be the same length as how long you'll be here and how long my break is." You look over at her, grinning at the smug smirk on her face.

"You're the unicorn, Britt-Britt."

"And you're my rainbow, Santana." You shake your head and laugh, pinning the lion-shield to your shirt. She kisses you again and you have a feeling you might not leave your mother's house all day. And that thought doesn't bother you in the least.


	3. BlownGlass Orange

**Disclaimer: I really really don't own _Glee. _Don't blame me for that show's madness.**

**A/N: **This is dedicated to the ever-awesome Mia. She's my bro-sky. And for Annalise, because she's my Pizza.

* * *

**Blown-Glass Orange**

**Chapter Three**

You and Brittany are helping Mrs. Pierce paint the spare bedroom for Baby Boy Pierce, who's apparently taking his own sweet time in coming into the world. She's technically not supposed to be in the room because of paint fumes, so she keeps sending Britt's little sister in to check on the two of you. Probably to make sure you're not having kinky paint-covered sex or something. You love Caroline Pierce. She's a nutty southern lady and you hardly understand what the hell she's going on about half the time, but she's warm and loving and one of your favorite adults. Her and your mom are best friends – have been since you and Britt-Britt were in kindergarten together.

You take your paintbrush and start adding a splash of purple to the fish that you're painting. After the other day at the aquarium, you and Brittany decided that Baby Boy's room was going to have an aquarium theme. There are colorful tropical fish everywhere and a few dolphins and smiling sharks just because you're whipped and your girlfriend insisted. You plan on helping repaint the furniture from when Savannah was a baby, making them white or a light green to go with the room.

The two of you break for lunch, and you head into the bathroom to try to get the flecks of paint off your face. You scrub your hands with the bar of "lava soap" that Shane Pierce uses after work. It's rough, but it smells good and gets all the paint off your hands and your hands are noticeably smoother after. You make a note to get some of it from him before you head back to New York. It'd be helpful for after your Volunteer Saturdays.

You head downstairs and kiss Britt-Britt on the cheek before messing up Anna's hair and making her squeal in protest. You remember being ten, but not caring that much about your appearance. Then again, you were a tomboy and Savannah's a girly-girl. Lunch is sandwiches and greens, because god forbid Caroline _not_ make something Southern-ish at every meal. You eat happily, glad to have something that isn't take-out or mac-n-cheese. You can cook, you just rarely have time.

You help Anna clear the table while Britt helps her mom to the couch so she can watch TV. The tiny blonde is bubbly and bouncy and busy trying to explain why boys are stupid and that she'd rather be a lez-bean like you and her sister. You shift awkwardly, not sure how to tell her that she'll be whatever she is. Boys might not always be icky. You know that enough from middle school.

"Hey Goober," your girlfriend says, interrupting her rapid-fire babbling. "Momma wants you to read to bubba." Anna grins widely and scampers off, glad to get out of helping you with the dishwasher. Arms wrap around your waist and Britt rests her chin on your shoulder as you push the button to make it go.

"Your sister wants to be a lesbian," you say. Brittany chuckles and kisses your shoulder and you feel her slip something into your turn to face her and she grins, biting her lip before handing you another piece of notebook paper. You unfold it carefully, ignoring the thing in your basketball shorts' pocket. This letter is written in orange marker, a large happy face drawn at the top of the page.

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_ You're an awesome rainbow, just so you know. Bubba's gonna have gay sharks to keep him company and his own rainbow fishes to make him smile. He's a lucky little guy._

_ Today's Orange Day. Orange is the color of creativity and playfulness. It's the color of not being bored, but being level-headed. It's the color of oranges and tigers and basketballs. And the color of my favorite wind chime._

_ You're creative and playful, because duh. Who else would agree to turning a bedroom into an aquarium? Or have a paint fight with me? You goof around with me and Vanna all the time and you're never boring, not even when you're trying to do inventory at work or helping me with my homework. You never get too wild because you're the most even-keeled person I know. You're fierce like a tiger and your body wash smells like oranges._

_ You're my playful tiger, Santana. You're orange._

_ Love,_

_ Brittany_

_(P.S. You can open your present now.)_

* * *

You smile at her and kiss her cheek before pulling the little package out of your pocket. Like yesterday, it's wrapped in orange tissue-paper and you peel it off carefully. In a little box is a glass tiger paper-weight and you stare at it in amazement. It's a swirly-orange with black stripes somehow set in it and it's eyes are little green flecks. Shane Pierce is a glass-blower, owning his own shop, but you've never owned anything made there before. This is amazing.

"Do you like it?" Brittany asks. You nod, not sure how to form words. "Dad helped me with the eyes and showed me how to combine colors."

"You made this?" You say, amazed. She nods and blushes at the intense stare you're giving her. "Holy shit, Brittany." You set the glass tiger down on the counter carefully before wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her. She thinks you're creative, but _damn_. That's fucking amazing.

"I love you, Santana," she breathes when you break apart. You press a kiss to her nose and grin. "You're my rainbow."

"And you're my unicorn," you say. You stick the tiger in Brittany's room before heading back to the soon-to-be nursery to finish the fishes. You knew your girlfriend was amazing, but this is mind-blowing. She really is the unicorn.


	4. Sweetheart Yellow

**Disclaimer: I really really don't own _Glee. _Don't blame me for that show's madness.**

**A/N: **This is dedicated to the ever-awesome Mia. She's my bro-sky. And for Annalise, because she's my Pizza.

* * *

**Sweetheart Yellow**

**Chapter Four**

It's been a long day. You and Brittany finished Baby Boy Pierce's room before lunch, then helped Caroline out by taking Savannah to the park. You were in charge of making sure that your girls put on sunscreen, but despite your efforts, the younger Pierce still managed to turn bright pink. You bought her a Jolly Rancher-flavored popsicle from the "dinger-man" and watched as she would stick her dyed tongue out at your girlfriend and make faces. Brittany would make her own and they'd pick fights. Someday, maybe, you can imagine her doing that with a kid of your own. But that's a long way off from now.

You flop down on Brittany's bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs stuck to her ceiling. You're exhausted, but you're happy. You feel the bed sink, feel her arm wrap around your middle and you smile. Her nose presses into your neck and she kisses you slightly. You feel her arm move and then a piece of paper pokes into your arm.

"Happy Yellow Day," she says, chuckling. You open your eyes and bring the paper up to where you can read it, regretting not having changed your contacts out for glasses. You roll away from her and slide off the bed, moving to the dresser where you left your contact stuff this morning. After a few seconds, your thick-framed glasses are sliding down your nose and you push them back up as you read the letter.

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_ Today's Yellow Day! Yellow's the color of lemons and cartoon suns and bumblebees and sunflowers and pineapple. And bananas and butterscotch candy like at my gran's house in the little dish on her coffee table. And lemonade and Peeps! It's the color of cheerfulness, honor and loyalty. And lightheartedness._

_ I know you're going to argue with me on this. You don't think you're cheerful or lighthearted. You are, sometimes, though. You're willing to goof off with me and Savannah, to grin and smile. You laugh at my stupid jokes and don't get annoyed at me like everyone else does._

_ You're loyal. Even when you're mad at someone, you still have their back. Even when you and Quinn are fighting, you still have her back. Even if I'm being stupid or even when I was dating Artie, I was still your girl even if you didn't want anyone to know._

_ And you're honorable. Honorable means "bringing or worthy of honor." And honor means, "adherence to what is right or to a conventional standard of conduct." You do what you think is right no matter what. Back when we were Cheerios, it was trickier for you, but now that you're in college, you're just you. You don't lie, cheat or steal. And you're willing to do this long-distance thing with me while I do my best to finish high school. That's really awesome. And it means a lot to me. I don't even think I have words for how much it means to me._

_ Yellow, to me, is the color of life. And you're alive. You're one of the most alive people I know. Because being alive isn't just about breathing. It's also about doing what makes life worth living. And I know you do that._

_ I love you like I love Peeps._

_ Brittany_

_(P.S. Can you tell I totally wrote this when I was hungry? Because I don't think I meant to list so many foods...)_

* * *

You look over at your girlfriend who looks about half-asleep on the bed. She has a yellow tissue-paper wrapped something resting on her stomach and you smile, setting the letter on the dresser behind you before making your way to her and her bed. You brush a strand of blonde hair out of her face before kissing her, feeling her lips twitch into a smile.

"Yellow's the color of my unicorn's hair," you say with a chuckle. "I think I like it the best." Brittany rolls her eyes and kisses you again before handing you the gift.

"There's four more days, Santana," she says in a long-suffering tone. "You have to wait before you declare favorites, and even then it's not nice. You don't want to upset the rainbow's delicate balance. It's like the Force."

You laugh and pull open the tissue-paper, revealing a wooden box. It's painted various shades of yellow and gold with a design carved into it. You open it to find butterscotch candies. When you look up at Brittany, she's grinning.

"You're awesome," you say, kissing her. "I love you so much, Britt-Britt."

"I love you too, sweetheart," she says, then cackles, causing you to laugh with her. "I wants to get my mack on." You pull your t-shirt over your head and watching how her face flushes and her eyes almost instantaneously focus on your breasts. It feels good, knowing that there's always one person in the world who loves you for both your heart and your body. Because sometimes you have issues loving both.

"Then get your mack on," you say, smirking.


	5. Sea Turtle Green

**Disclaimer: I really really don't own _Glee. _Don't blame me for that show's madness.**

* * *

**Sea Turtle Green**

**Chapter Five**

Your mother is pacing and muttering, running her hands through her hair. You're rubbing Brittany's knee with your thumb, trying to distract her from the tension radiating off your mom. You can hear the garage door open and the sound of your father's dress shoes making their way to the kitchen. He greets your mother with a kiss and turns to look at you, a smile on his face.

"You're an idiot," your mother hisses suddenly. "Why would you invite that woman here?" You frown a bit and look between the two of them, not entirely sure what's going on.

"Just trust me, Maribel. There is no issue." He turns to the two of you. "Will the two of you help your mother set the table? I've ordered out and it should be arriving soon."

"Who's coming to dinner, Dad?" you ask. He sighs and looks up to the ceiling. You feel yourself start to get worried but try to keep it out of your body language. Brittany's already nervous because of how your mother was acting. She doesn't need you to freak her out, too.

"You'll find out, Santanita. Just trust me?" You close your eyes for a minute, fighting your instinct to just leave and nod.

"Okay." You stand and pull Brittany with you, headed with your mother into the dining room to set the table. She pulls dishes out of the cupboard, wiping it with a damp cloth before handing it to you to put on the table. Brittany does the glasses, carefully, avoiding dropping anything and making it look like what she had to do as a debutant. You had always thought that crap was pointless, but she's the best at setting a table properly. You always set things up wrong.

Six spots are set out. You have no idea who's coming, but your mom doesn't like one of the guests. You swallow, hoping tonight doesn't completely suck. You have a feeling you know who the one guest is, but you hope not.

You're not religious like you were, but you seriously debate praying to God or Jesus or whoever just to not let it be _her._ You aren't Garbage-Face Lopez anymore. You're just Santana and her goal of making you tough has been realized now after she kicked you out.

The doorbell rings and you can hear your dad go to answer it. You don't know if it'll be food Brittany goes to the hall, peering out curiously. When her eyes widen and she bites her lip, you know. Alma Lopez is here. _Fuck._

"Santana," your mother mumbles. "If you want to, take Brittany and go. I'll tell them that Mrs. Pierce is pregnant." You frown, debating your options. You can go to the Pierces' and avoid this all together. But Brittany thinks you're lionhearted. Your eyes meet hers from across the room and you decide. You turn to your mother and shake your head.

"I think we can survive dinner," you say. Your mother purses her lips before nodding and patting your cheek with her hand.

"I love you, Santana." She looks away from you and forces a smile as your abuela and uncle walk into the room. Your uncle lives in Texas and you rarely get to see him outside of Christmas and funerals. "Hola Alma, hola Manuel."

"Hola Maribel," your uncle says, moving to hug her and kiss her cheek. "You look as fabulous as always." You've always wondered if he was gay, but you've never said anything. If your abuela reacted the way she did with you, you don't want to know what she would've done to him. Manuel looks at you and grins widely. "Santana! You look so much older than the last time I saw you." He pulls you in for a tight hug.

"It's good to see you," you say, not really sure why he's in Ohio.

"Don't worry about Mama," he whispers in your ear. "Trust me. Your dad and I have worked on it." He pulls away from you and you see Brittany standing against the wall. She's usually so excited about your family, but right now she looks lost. Your uncle notices and goes to hug her. Your abuela takes the moment to slowly move to you.

"Santana," she says. The way she holds herself is so foreign, almost like she's expecting you to hit her. You've never seen her this guarded, this almost-fearful, in your life. You try to smile at her, not sure how you're supposed to act in this situation. She kicked you out of her house and now she's in yours. You feel that decision to be lionhearted slightly biting you in the ass.

"Abuelita," you say. She half-smiles as the doorbell rings again and your mother disappears to go get the food. Your abuela looks over to where Brittany is standing with your Uncle Manuel. She's still half-smiling. Her hair is longer than it was, more lines around her eyes.

"Brittany," she says. Britt-Britt quirks her lips in a cautious smile. "How is school?"

"Good, Señora Lopez. How have you been?" she says quietly. _Don't worry about Mama. Your dad and I have worked on it._

Apparently working on it means turning your proud grandmother into a timid woman? What the hell did they do to her?

"I've been staying with my Manny in San Antonio," she says. "Winters are nicer there." Abuela looks to you and smiles a bit more. "How are you, Santana?" You swallow, not sure how she expects you to act like nothing happened.

"I'm fine," you say after a moment's hesitation. "New York is a pretty cool place." She nods and your mother asks you to sit down. You look over to her, realizing that the table is set and food is waiting. Brittany takes your hand and you move with her, sitting next to her. You can feel your abuela's eyes on you and you feel like you're small and judged and weak, like you did when Finn outed you. But unlike the time with Finn, you swallow hard and breathe in deeply before straightening your spine. _I can do this,_ you think to yourself. Brittany's hand on your knee helps.

Dinner goes okay, pretty much as well as it can when your mother looks like she wants to kill her mother-in-law and your father and uncle are trying to ignore her. Your abuela asks you and Brittany questions, acts like everything is back to how it was when the two of you and sometimes Quinn would go over to her house for Sunday lunch. The nostalgia makes you a bit sad, but you ignore it.

When everyone's done eating, you stand to help your mother clear the table but your uncle's hand on your arm stops you. "I can do that," he says. You watch slightly helplessly as your father and uncle start clearing the table, leaving you and Brittany with Abuela.

"Please sit," your abuela says and you sit back down next to Brittany. The hand goes back to your knee and you squeeze it with your own, not sure you're ready for this. It's been over a year, but sometimes time doesn't heal all wounds. "Did you know that King David was gay?" You feel your mouth open and close and hear Britt snort slightly.

"Yes," she says as you shake your head. "He and Jonathan were." Your abuela nods and you stare between the two of them confusedly.

"I didn't," she says. "But I also didn't care to know. It took me a long while after you left my house for me to think of anything other than you going to hell. I prayed on it, I spoke to Father Garcia. I was terrified that you'd be damned because of who you loved." She pauses before looking up at you, and you can see tears in her eyes. "And Father told me the same thing that I had feared. So I talked to my Manny. He invited me to his home and the day after I arrived, he took me to the church he's been attending.

"To make a very long story short, I have come to the understanding that God is okay with you gays. He loves you as much as he loves anyone and that's why you exist." You feel a part of yourself bristling at her wording, but the rest of you is shocked. "Adam and Eve had so many children, and some of them had to be gay. Because Manny tells me one out of every ten children are gay."

You feel Brittany shift next to you. "Jesus commanded us to love one another," she says quietly. "And that's all we've been doing. Yet you kicked Santana out."

"I know," Abuela says, looking regretful. "I know. I can't take it back. But I want to make it up to you if that's all right – to the both of you. I love you, Santana. And you too, Brittany." You close your eyes for a moment. You know you will have a hard time trusting her, know that the awful things she said will be ingrained in your memory for a long while. But trying's okay, isn't it? _To err is human, to forgive is divine._ You won't forget–you can't forget–but forgiving...yeah, you'll forgive her.

"Okay," you say. "We can try." Her face breaks out in a smile and you feel Brittany squeeze your knee. You glance up at her and see a sad-happy look on her face. There are tears in her blue eyes and you quirk a smile at her.

* * *

Brittany left for home to go check on her mom, leaving you to decompress in the shower. Now that the evening is over and your grandmother is back at her house, you feel slightly overwhelmed. _She accepts you._ Holy fucking shit. You sit down in the tub, the shower spraying hot water and you start to sob.

"_I'm looking forward to the day when my grandmother loves me again."_

_ "I love you, Santana."_

You sob harder and wonder for a moment if this counts as a miracle. Because you had hoped and prayed and tried to move on with your life and now here it was. Your abuela still loves you. And she accepts you.

Eventually the water runs cold and you fumble with the lever, shutting it off and getting out of the tub. You dry off quickly, hoping it'll help you warm up a bit. You get dressed in a pair of sweats and one of Brittany's oversized sweatshirts, sliding under the covers of your bed. There's a folded piece of notebook paper on your pillow and you smile, sniffling a bit.

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_ I am so, so proud of you. You are my lionheart and I will always love you._

_ So, onto today's color. Today is green. Green's the color of nature, harmony, growth, hope, safety and spring. I think it's one of the prettiest colors. And you are totally green. But not like the sick, I'm-gonna-puke kind of green. That's not a very pretty green._

_ You're hopeful all the time. I know you've been hoping and wishing for your abuela to take you back, to love you again. And from what she said earlier, I don't think she ever stopped. In a way, I think she was just scared for you. She was scared that being gay was going to hurt you. But guess what? She's okay with you now._

_ If that's not harmonious, I don't know what is._

_ Spring is the season of growth and renewal. Everything starts blooming in the spring, everything goes green. It's my favorite season. And guess what? Today is a new start for you and your abuela._

_ But, to the point. You are green, Santana. You are my safe-person. You are the one I hide in when I'm scared or hurt or angry. You make me hopeful, make me grow as a person. Momma says that's the best kind of love – the kind that makes you grow._

_ You know what else is green? That sea turtle from "Finding Nemo." Crush! But I think I'm more of a Crush than you are. But it doesn't matter._

_ You're my sea turtle, Santana._

_Love,_

_Brittany_

* * *

You smile, tears starting to fall down your cheeks. Warm arms wrap around you and lips press to your wet cheek.

"I love you," you whisper. You feel Brittany smile against your cheek. "I love you so much." You turn and press your lips to hers, wrapping your hands around her neck. You feel her hands move around and something slightly cold and smooth press against your neck. You pull back to find her tying a braided necklace around your neck. At the end of it is a sea turtle pendant.

"You're my sea turtle," she says, kissing your nose. "And I love you too."


	6. Gay Sharks and Bluejay Blue

**Disclaimer: I really really don't own _Glee. _Don't blame me for that show's madness.**

**If you didn't see it on my Tumblr, I will announce it here. I am done with _Glee_ for the foreseeable future. Fret not, I am working on finishing up my fics (starting with this one). When they're done, I am taking a break from writing so I can not worry about anything other than my real life. Sorry for the wait, but I've been beyond stressed.**

* * *

**Gay Sharks and Bluejay Blue**

**Chapter Six**

"Santana!" Brittany's voice is worried, rushed. You look up to see her standing in the doorway of the laundry room, hair falling out of her ponytail and red-faced. "Momma's in labor!" You toss the half-folded shirt onto the pile of clean clothes and follow Britt-Britt out into the world, racing over to the Pierce house where Savannah looks terrified as Shane Pierce is half-carrying Caroline to the car.

You wrap your arms around Anna, ushering her back into the house. The plan was for Britt-Britt to stay at home with Anna until her dad called. You sit Anna down on the couch, kneeling in front of her and cupping her worried face in your hands.

"Why does she look like it hurts?" the little blonde asks, her voice shaking. "Is the baby gonna be okay?" You brush a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear and smile.

"You know that the baby is in your momma's stomach, right?" She nods. "Well, in order to get Bubba out, her body's going to squeeze."

"Like a ketchup bottle?" You nod, trying not to be grossed out by the comparison.

"Just like a ketchup bottle. And the squeezing kind of hurts, but she'll be okay. Women have been having babies for forever. We've got it down to an art." Anna nods, putting her arms out and you respond to the silent request for a hug, holding her close as she shakes. You knew that Caroline had explained most of pregnancy to the ten year old, but you forgot that knowing how something works and witnessing it were two different things. Anna was similar to Brittany in that way, over-anxious and scared when new things happened.

"Hey," Britt-Britt says from behind you. "Daddy's taking Momma to Dr. Lopez's hospital. She and Bubba are gonna be okay." You feel Anna slowly stop shaking and you pull away from her, kissing the top of her head.

"How 'bout some grilled cheese?" You ask with a smile. Anna nods and you pull her to her feet with you.

* * *

"How are you never worried?" Brittany asks when you've gotten Anna into bed. Shane had called earlier - Caroline had a few hours to go yet and he'd call back when the baby was born.

You look up at her, watching her pull her shirt off. "Believe it or not, I do get worried, Britt-Britt. I just have to have faith that everything's going to turn out all right. I used to freak out over things all the time to the point of making myself sick." She nods, remembering the times where I would get sick for no reason. People used to think I had an eating disorder because of it. "I've worked on it a lot and I have to work really hard not to worry so much."

"You have to teach me that trick sometime," she says, lying down next to me and resting her head on my shoulder. "Worrying is exhausting." You kiss the top of her head and close your eyes. You've missed this, the silence and the warmth and her. Mostly her. New York is busy and loud and the only thing you have there to remind you of home is Berry and that's just...Rachel gets on your last nerve at times and you just want to strangle the girl.

You feel Brittany snuggle further into your side and your lips quirk into a half-smile. You're glad to be home.

* * *

The phone ringing wakes you and you notice that Brittany isn't next to you anymore. Her spot is cool and you know she's awake and worrying again. She always does. Your hand finds a piece of paper under her pillow and you laugh quietly. It takes you a second to wake up enough to remember that today is "Blue Day".

Brittany's handwriting is messy and in bright blue ink.

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_ It's Blue Day and that rhymes with bluejay! And Bubba's on his way and boys are supposed to like blue (which I think is crap because what if he likes pink or green or yellow better? This is why rainbowfish and gay sharks were an awesome choice for the nursery!)._

_ Anyways, blue means depth, stability, trust, and faith. You're blue because you are one of the deepest people I know. Yeah, so sometimes you're shallow about stuff like brands. But I think everyone is. I mean, that peanut butter company that tried to make a knock-off Nutella? It's icky! Actual Nutella is sooooooo much better._

_ But yeah. You're also stability. I'm pretty sure I've said it before that you're my rock. You're my rock and I'm your rock and we keep each other on an even-keel. That's why sometimes I think we're going to be together forever. Even if we break up, we're still BFFL. Duh._

_ You trust me and you have faith in me. And I trust you and have faith in you. Guess we're both blue, huh? Our relationship is totes blue. Which gives me an idea. Awesome!_

_ So, you're blue and our relationship is blue (but not the sad kind of blue, promise!). We're gay sharks and we love each other._

_ (Sorry if I'm even more rambly than normal. I'm a little tired.)_

_ I love you, my bluejay,_

_ Brittany_

* * *

You laugh and shake your head before getting out of bed to go find your girlfriend, slipping a shirt on. As you pass Anna's room, you stick your head in, checking on the still snoring blonde. You smile before finding Brittany pacing downstairs in a hoodie and basketball shorts, talking on the phone. You sit down on the couch and she looks over at you, still talking with the person on the other end. When she finally hangs up, she moves to you, sitting next to you and throwing her legs over yours.

"Another hour or so. Apparently Bubba doesn't want to join us anytime soon," she huffs. You laugh and run your hands over her bare legs.

"He takes after you and your sister then," you say. "Neither of you ever want to get out of the shower and take up all the hot water. Sounds like Bubba doesn't want to leave his own personal swimming pool." Brittany wrinkles her nose before closing her eyes and leaning back onto the couch.

"I'll give you your present later, okay?" she asks, sounding exhausted. Her freckles stand out sharply in the pale light from the kitchen and you find her breathtakingly beautiful.

"That's fine, Britt-Britt."

"Mmmkay," she hums. You pull the quilt off the back of the couch and move so the two of you are spooning with blanket over you.


End file.
